The Making of the Band
by Proverbial Pumpkin
Summary: What starts as a headache mission goes horribly wrong- particularly for Aya. Mission, romance, angst, etc. Yohji/Aya.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Hello, all. This is just an idea I got while writing one of my earlier fics. This is also my first Weiss fic, so hopefully some of the people who read it will enjoy. Rated T for language and male/male relationships and later on, angst.

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**The Making of the Band**

Chapter One

"This mission's target isn't known to the public, but has gained powerful influence over Japan's entertainment industry."

Yohji yawned as Manx passed out thin brown folders to each of the present members of Weiss. Aya hadn't made his appearance into the mission room yet. Omi received his file dutifully, Ken with a jaded sort of apathy. Yohji was just disgruntled. This was the first Saturday morning he'd been awake to suffer through in a while, and the fact that there had been a wild scene at his favorite club the night before didn't help his condition. He'd definitely intended on sleeping into the afternoon before nursing a violent hangover for a few hours, and then rehashing the sequence. Party, sleep, recover, repeat. All in a semi-effective attempt to divert himself from real life.

Real life was a bitch lately. It wasn't the blood on his hands anymore, or the nightmares he'd once had about the loved ones he'd killed or watched die. Recently, it was life outside the missions that had him confused. So, in a valiant effort to rid himself of his disconcerted thoughts, he would go out. Again.

But he hadn't factored in the possibility of a mission into his weekend plans. Yohji looked down at his folder, which wasn't thick enough to contain more than a few sheets of paper inside. So, a mission with either little to go on, or little to understand. He didn't care either way.

"What makes you think we're all in? We haven't even heard from Persia yet. And where the hell is Aya?" Yohji impatiently looked to the mission room doorway, wondering why the red-head wasn't hurrying. It wasn't because Yohji had taken to wondering where the younger man was when he wasn't around. Not at all. Yohji just wanted back in bed, now.

Ken let himself fall onto the couch. "This had better be a damn vicious Dark Beast of yours, Manx. I specifically arranged to have soccer practice this morning because Kritiker usually has the decency _not_ to discover any twisted bad guys at ungodly weekend hours."

"There are barely any notes in here!" Omi exclaimed, ignoring Yohji and Ken and looking disdainfully at his sparse pages of information. "What kind of mission is this?"

Only Aya kept any complaints he may have had to himself, entering wordlessly and seating himself across from Ken and folding his hands underneath his chin. Yohji observed him and wanted to tell him to lighten up- no point in looking so angry at the world _before_ hearing about how some innocent person was recently shot or mauled. Instead, he just flashed him a smile, which was ignored.

Yohji was about to try to vex a response out of the man, before realizing Aya was still wearing the clothes as he was last night. Ah, yes. Aya had performed a solo mission less than six hours ago. No wonder he was late coming down.

"Long night, Aya?" Yohji asked. Aya merely grunted in response, but Yohji could tell Aya was tired. Usually Yohji was able to coax at least a sentence or two out of the quiet man, but not today. Even Aya's eyes, though focused, didn't hold their usual piercing quality.

Manx was smiling slightly and speaking to Omi about the case. "Persia will begin to explain, Omi-kun," she said, playing the video. The screen flickered grey for a moment, before the images of three attractive young women appeared, all three photos clearly professionally taken. Yohji whistled.

"Hey, the one on the right looks familiar," said Ken, squinting at the monitor.

Omi nodded in agreement. "Hino-san. She goes to a high school near mine. I think she was in the newspaper for getting a recording contract signed for her band a few weeks ago."

The voice of Persia came through the speakers. "In the past two months, the three rising music artists shown here have been kidnapped. Each abduction occurred directly before performances, in secured areas open only to authorized personnel. No other links have been made connecting the incidents."

A map of their region of Japan, highlighting several large concert houses, appeared. Omi began flipping through his pages to see if he had a copy. Digging through his pocket for a cigarette, Yohji frowned at the boy's dedication. He was making him look bad.

The voice of Persia continued. "Each artist was performing at a different venue, and under different management. In addition, one girl had secured a recording label; the other two had not. These inconsistencies may be intentional, and lead us to believe that one individual, or an elite ring, is behind all the kidnappings. They are obtaining the women by employing music industry workers, possibly recording scouts, label managers, or other persons with access backstage to the three different performances. Members of Weiss, hunt the tomorrows of these Dark Beasts!"

The screen went black, and no one said anything for a moment. Aya continued to stare at the monitor as if he'd expected more. Ken and Omi exchanged confused glances, and Yohji turned on Manx. "What the fuck?" he demanded. "That's _it_?"

Manx ejected the tape. "You'll find a bit more in your file. As Persia said, each of the victims were at similar points in their careers, and involved in the same type of productions. Never the same organizers, though. Whoever's behind the kidnappings, they're being sure not to leave any connections between the music industry authorities, and we need to find these middle-men before we can find the person who has possession of the women."

"What do we know about them? The women, other than Hino-san?" Omi asked.

"Not much. No striking physical similarities or uncommon backgrounds. They were all recently signed or promoted through various music competitions or shows, only to go missing weeks afterwards. The mastermind behind all of this doesn't lose much time in obtaining the women he wants, once he finds them through his informants."

Aya spoke for the first time in his low, eerily professional voice. "Is there a motivation suspected for these 'informants'?" Yohji tried not to notice how exhausted his voice sounded. Aya had probably taken down a few rapists or something the night before, and here Yohji was complaining about being awake after an alcohol binge.

Manx shrugged. "The usual, we've got to assume. Could be money, could be blackmailed or having their families threatened. There's no way to know, right now."

"But they're all targets regardless, I suppose?" Omi said sadly.

"That's right. They've all contributed to the abduction of these women. But don't worry, Omi-kun, we need the music production members alive in order to find whoever's organizing it all. You won't kill them until after you've found the main source of everything."

"That's great," I said, lighting the cigarette. "Fucking brilliant. But how the hell do we know who these music men are, if Kritiker hasn't managed to put anything together for us besides the names and pictures of three missing girls?"

Manx smiled smugly. "Haven't you been listening? We know the type of show where the kidnappings take place. We don't know who's involved, but we can arrange to have you four to be there when they make a move. Not to stop the kidnapping, but to track it."

Omi furrowed his brows and started reading over his scant file, as if already mulling over how to pull the mission off. Ken rolled his eyes, and dropped his file to the table unread. "What the hell are we supposed to do, stake out in air vents at a concert until someone starts screaming, and then sneak over and put a tracker on her jacket?"

Manx's shook her head. "That certainly would be relying on luck more than Kritiker likes. So no. We'll have to arrange for you to be able to stay backstage, near potential or likely victims, during the next multi-band performance at the Crescent Center. We believe another kidnapping may be attempted at its competition for upcoming artists, scheduled next month. Nothing has happened so far at that location connected to the case, and the production is being run by a company that also hasn't been involved, so far."

"What do you mean?" Yohji asked. "You want us to, like… manage some chick band or something?"

Aya's eyes narrowed, as if he knew were this was going and he wasn't pleased with it. "We don't have the credentials," he nearly growled.

"Bingo," Manx answered. "You have to enter as contestants in the competition."

Ken's jaw dropped, and Omi looked as if she'd just ordered him to tango in heels with the president of the United States. "You mean, make a band?"

Yohji tossed his file on the table next to Ken's. "Well, I'm out."

Manx looked at him coolly. "That's your choice, but you'll be making things much harder on your teammates. Three of you are needed just to earn a performance spot. And the other one of you is still absolutely necessary. You need someone not participating in the competition to track the potential victims and mission targets."

"You mean Bombay. But the rest of us aren't professional musicians," Aya said, wondering why Manx hadn't addressed the obvious already. Yohji looked from him to Manx.

"Actually, according to Kritiker's background information on all of you, Siberian was in a band several years ago, before his career in the J-League began."

"Really?" Omi asked, surprised. "What did you play, Ken-kun?"

They all looked at Ken, who paled. "Drums, and I was kicked out for a reason. I _sucked_."

"And what about me and Aya?" Yohji demanded. "We can't learn to play instruments in two weeks, let alone well enough to compete in some sort of show."

Manx answered patiently. "First of all, you don't have to learn your instruments _well_. You have to learn a _song_. Just to get a spot, and that's it. It doesn't matter how well you perform once you're in, so long as we find our target. You'll pick something easy and catchy, and if your playing is tolerable, you should be alright. Given your ages and…." Here Manx wrinkled her nose slightly. "Your _passable_ looks, we expect you'll have to rely on amping up some sort of sexual appeal. Whatever it takes to get a spot in the concert."

She said it with finality. "I don't need to remind you all that the fates of those three women haven't been discovered, but by the time they are, it's likely another one will have already been taken."

Ken shrugged at Yohji and picked his file back up. Yohji snatched up his. "So, Kritiker's paying for everything?" he snapped. "Do we get lessons? What am I supposed to play?"

Manx looked triumphant. "Of course Kritiker will pay. Time is short though, so you're expected to apply yourself considerably between now and the final submission deadline, which is only a few weeks away. As for you and Abyssinian…"

Aya looked at her intently upon hearing his codename. "We saw that you're trained in classical violin," Manx said, addressing him. That sure surprised Yohji. He'd never heard that.

Aya nodded his head a fraction of an inch. "Are we entering a competition for classical violinists with percussion accompaniment?" His tone was so expressionless, his face so unaltered, that anyone who didn't know Aya personally would think he was perfectly serious.

"No," Manx responded, "But this makes you the only one with any real musical background - how to read it and the like. So you'll be expected to help Balinese learn whatever song you choose, and Siberian if he needs it."

Aya cut his eyes at Yohji sharply, and then practically glowered at Manx. "And what else?"

For a moment, Manx looked almost uncomfortable, and averted her eyes to the rest of us. "Since we _are_ relying so heavily on sex appeal, we decided it best to have Abyssinian on vocals. Most likely only Abyssinian."

There was a pause. "You want me to sing?" Aya asked, his voice dangerously low.

Yohji could understand Manx's thought process on that one. Unlike the rest of them, Aya never absently sang while working or in the shower. He barely ever even spoke. But the man's voice was deep and strong, and although Yohji wouldn't admit it for the amount he'd made in his entire career as an assassin, he liked listening to it.

"That's right. Balinese, you'll have a choice," Manx continued. "Whichever you think you'd be less inept at: keyboard or guitar. Remember, you have two weeks to learn. Whichever you don't choose, we'll arrange for an instrumental track to be recorded, if the song can't be arranged without it."

"Guitar," Yohji answered firmly. To his knowledge, the keyboard was not hot. And if they were going for sex appeal, there was no reason for Yohji to be caged in behind a huge instrument. If Aya got to strut around with a microphone, Yohji should be able to saunter about with a shiny red piece of metal.

Of course, judging by Aya's expression, he wouldn't be quite as emphatic about the arrangements as Yohji was. Hell, Aya looked like he'd rather have his voice box taken out than use it in front of a huge audience. "Relax, Aya," Yohji teased, sitting beside him. "You probably have the best voice in the world. Barely used, like-new." Aya frowned and scooted over.

Manx left, telling them that their instruments would arrive later in the day, and that Aya, Yohji, and Ken should all get to work immediately. Kritiker would be in touch with Omi concerning his work. Omi was obviously relieved at his role in the case, and retired to his computer room with his mission file. Shutting the door behind Manx, Yohji looked helplessly at the Aya and Ken. "Is it just me, or is this the fucking most bizarre mission ever?"

"We don't even have a target," Ken complained. "We better get paid way extra for all the preparation time this is going to take."

"We have to choose a song," Aya said. "Something either slow or repetitive, and with as few chords for Kudoh to learn as possible."

He said it reasonably and professionally, but Yohji still took offense. "What the hell, Aya? I'm about to _re-define_ the electric guitar."

Aya looked at him, his face deadpan. "In two weeks?"

Ken watched them with interest, puttering about. Figuring it was too late for soccer, he decided he'd go ahead and open the koneko while watching Yohji square off in indignation at Aya.

"Yes, in two weeks!" Yohji exclaimed. Aya continued to gaze at him, his face completely emotionless. Yohji gestured fervently. "I mean it. And don't look at me like that. Just because you know something about music, doesn't mean you… know more than I do."

Aya thought about that for a moment, and then cocked his head with a puzzled look on his face. "That's exactly what it means, Kudoh, because you don't know anything."

What bothered Yohji most was that Aya said it without any venom whatsoever. Yohji had no idea why he was letting Aya's rationality ruffle his feathers. "You should be more worried about picking something you can sing. You … monotone prick."

It was a lie, of course. Aya's voice rose when he was pissed enough to yell at customers to buy something or leave. Aya arched one eyebrow, surprised at Yohji's vehemence. Then, without giving the conversation another thought, he turned to go upstairs. "One of you start looking for songs. I'm going to sleep."

Yohji clenched his hand into a fist as he went. It wasn't Aya's lack of faith in Yohji that galled him now; it was the way Aya dismissed him, his single-minded concern for work and nothing else. He watched Aya run a hand through his hair as he ascended the steps. Disturbing Yohji even more, he was beginning to understand why the man's untouchable apathy was unnerving him.

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**A/N: **Well, there's the first chapter. It's more of a prologue, I suppose. Cross my heart, things'll pick up. Until next time, I hope you enjoyed and do review if you're inclined.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Well, onward we go. Also note- I own nothing.

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**The Making of the Band**

Chapter Two

"Aya?"

Yohji knocked again, and listened. It had been several hours since Aya had slunk up to his room to pass out, but no one had heard any noise from the room since. The swordsman _never_ slept into the afternoon, so Yohji wondered just how much sleep he must have lost the night before. "Aya?" He pushed the door open a crack, wanting to make sure Aya was still in there, but not wanting his head sliced off for his interference.

Aya was curled up on his bed fully dressed. Yohji saw his sword was sheathed and put away; he probably cleaned it first thing after his mission.

Aya looked kind of harmless, resting with one hand curled up by his face and his bangs splayed over his eyes. But Yohji knew better, and didn't venture any further past the doorway. "Your shift is about to start. Ken promised to get working on the new mission after you take over for him."

He hadn't expected a verbal response, and was satisfied when Aya groaned and his eyes opened. "I'll tell him you'll be down in a few minutes," Yohji said, turning back into the hallway as Aya stirred. He started to close the door, but then realized that Aya's movements had stilled. Glancing back into the room, Yohji saw Aya's eyes flutter closed again. Yohji snorted, less successful in waking the younger man than he'd thought. And yet, he hesitated to speak louder or give Aya a good shove. In addition to it being hazardous to his own health, Yohji knew from experience how taxing solo missions could be, and Aya just looked so tired.

"Aya?" Yohji said tentatively. "Do you want me to take your shift?"

He waited, hearing nothing for a few moments before a small sound finally reached his ears.

"…Hn."

Yohji rolled his eyes and frowned, closing the door behind him this time. There's gratitude for you. Sauntering back downstairs to take over for Ken, Yohji sighed as he thought about the night out he'd had planned. So much for that, but it couldn't be helped. Aya was tired, Omi was at school, and Yohji wasn't a _completely_ selfish asshole. And who knows- if Aya was in a good mood when he finally got his ass out of bed, it might even be worth it.

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"Kudoh, you have five fingers. You only have to use three. Figure it out."

Three sentences- Yohji had definitely put Aya in a good mood by taking his shift. He did have a funny way of showing it though, ordering him about as if he himself were some sort of guitar expert. They were situated back room of the koneko, Aya standing over Yohji with his arms crossed like a school instructor.

"_You_ try it then!" Yohji said, shoving the instrument towards him. "It's harder than it looks, alright?"

Aya stared levelly at Yohji. Ah, yes. Mr. classically-trained violinist. "I know how hard it is and isn't to play an instrument. And it should not be this difficult to hold it correctly and play one damn chord."

Ken came in holding a tall, wilted plant, one that Yohji vaguely remembered Omi asking him to look after, and set it down in the corner. "Just show him how, Aya," Ken sighed, brushing his hands on his apron.

Aya shot him a look. "Go find us a song," he retorted.

As Ken left in a huff, Yohji tried to reposition the guitar. It certainly was an eye-catching instrument, although not the color he would have chosen. Still, it was sleek and black, and he knew for a fact he looked good with it.

He attempted another strum, and something grotesque sounded from the small amp Kritiker had delivered. Aya scowled and bent down to fiddle with it, and when his backside jutted into the air, and Yohji didn't bother looking tactfully down at his instrument. Suddenly, a loud crack emitted from the speaker, and Aya straightened with the cord in his hand.

"Hey!" Yohji exclaimed. "Put that back in!"

"No," he said, coiling it in a loop.

"Aya!"

"Until you can play less offensively, there's no reason to amplify it," he said, again with his obnoxious reason. "The customers will think you're trying to ward them off."

Yohji began to suggest that it would sound better to Aya if his whole head wasn't shoved up his own behind, but then, to his surprise, Aya sat down next to him on his right. Yohji closed his mouth as Aya picked up the thin instruction book Kritiker had so thoughtfully supplied. "Look, Kudoh," he said, opening it. "You've even got diagrams."

Yohji took a close look at the lines and dots, and awkwardly positioned his fingers where it looked like they might belong. He attacked the strings again. Without the amp, it just sounded…plinky, but Aya cringed as if his delicate ear had been insulted. Sighing, he leaned across the instrument, and for a split moment Yohji thought he was going to position Yohji's hand where it belonged. Instead, he just pointed to one of the strings.

He nodded toward the page in front of them. "This string. Fourth finger, right here."

"What?" Yohji said, distracted by Aya's proximity, and yet how carefully Aya was keeping from actually touching Yohji's arm as he gestured at the instrument. "Fourth finger from which side?"

Aya looked like he just barely kept from rolling his eyes, and was starting to re-think their assignments in the mission. "Can you sing?"

Yohji held the instrument tighter towards him, as if Aya might yank it straight out of his hands if he weren't careful. "Not at all, and Manx said I could play this."

"Oh, give it to me," Aya snapped. Yohji yelped as his guitar was pried from his grip. Suck as he may, he was still becoming attached to the instrument. He grinned as Aya fiddled with it, clearly unused to having to finger such a large instrument. Aya's brow furrowed, and he looked back and forth from the neck to the page in the book.

"See? I told you it wasn't as easy as it looks," Yohji sneered.

Giving his positioning one more glance, Aya strummed, and a clean chord sounded out. "Don't hold it so tightly," he said, ignoring Yohji's remark. "Just get your fingers where they belong. Curve them more, too."

Yohji counted to ten as Aya handed him back the instrument.

"That was E-flat Major, by the way," Aya said stoically, watching Yohji continue his vain attempts. "If you were interested."

Yohji certainly was not, and would have told the redhead to fuck off if he weren't enjoying Aya being forced to speak in actual sentences to him. As it was, he set his jaw and set about his task. Fourth finger, curved…. A blessed sound of near-harmony emitted from the instrument, and though he wished it were amped, Yohji looked pridefully up at Aya, smiling.

Aya rested his chin on his hand. "Kind of a slow start to "re-defining" an instrument."

Yohji counted back down to one. Presently, Ken came in with a sheet of paper in each hand. "Okay, guys. I found a couple songs that look good," he said, handing over the lyrics to Yohji.

Yohji glanced down and scowled. "These are all in English. I thought we were going for sex appeal, here."

Ken laughed. "Omi thought it might set us apart from the other entries, and we need all the help we can get. Besides, Aya's English is good enough to pull it off, isn't it Aya?"

"Hn," the redhead grunted absently.

Yohji read off the words at the top of one page, his accent heavy. " 'Simple Affair of the Heart.'"

Aya snorted. Yohji turned the page over. " 'Wish I Had an Angel'? What the fuck, Ken? We won't get a spot in the competition if Aya's vomiting all over the stage."

"He said slow!" Ken said. "I can't play that fast, and you can't play at all. And I'm sorry, but you're not going to find a very badass slow song."

"He's right, Yohji-kun!"

Startled, Yohji jumped as Omi's voice shot in from the computer room. Yohji sighed dramatically, then shrugged at Aya. "What do you say, Aya? Affair or Angel?"

Aya looked more than slightly miffed at the prospects, and barely conceded an irritated response. "Keep looking." He stood up, done with his teammates for the time being. "When you find something worthwhile, someone tell Omi to find a copy of the song, and guitar tabs."

Yohji looked confusedly at the page in his hands, then to Aya's retreating back. "Guitar what?"

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A/N: Well, there's that. I know I'm not making it blatantly clear what I'm doing with this, but if you've read any of my stuff and know my prettyangst! tendencies, then you probably have an idea. Here's hoping you review and come back :-)


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